What a week in headline news. If I see one more thing about Iran and Israel, I am going to nuke them all myself. Syria is no better. Plus, the Chinese/Tibetan thing is flaring up again and soon the cute little monks will all be carrying Chinese ID cards.

On the bright side, there’s more tragic news for the cruise-line industry. Some English dude on a gay and lesbian liner jumped off the stinkpot and died. The norovirus infected nearly 500 people on two different Princess Cruises ships. Yippee, skippee! Cruise ships should be illegal, and if not, more useful. In my dreams every politician on the planet would be assigned to a cabin and forced to live there indefinitely.

Sometimes I wish everybody—but especially politicians—would either keep quiet or die en masse. Don’t talking heads ever exhaust themselves? They certainly can take it out of a person. A few checks of the Drudge Report these past few days has me flat on my back and strung-out on meds.

“Don’t talking heads ever exhaust themselves?”

Giants fans are thrilled New York won the Super Bowl. Maybe now they will all shut up about Tom Brady and whether or not he’s the greatest quarterback of his generation. Tom Brady is good-looking and talented. I suppose that’s reason enough to hate him.

No relief in the rags, either. Old Joe Francis from Girls Gone Wild fame is trying to make a buck off Madonna, claiming that her use of the phrase “Girls Gone Wild” in her new song will require a licensing agreement. Francis claims the phrase is his “trademark” and that Madge will have to pay him if she wants to use it on her new album. Francis’s people sent a letter to Madonna insisting she not use the song in her Super Bowl halftime act. What a lowlife.

Digging even lower: Courtney Love and her accursed hatchling Frances Bean Cobain are in the news again because someone leaked 2009 court documents where Frances suggests Love’s drug use caused the death of two family pets. If she can squeeze in some time in between swallowing pain pills and trying to find her cell phone, Courtney is planning to sue whoever leaked the supposedly sealed documents. When the deposition was taken in 2009, Li’l Frances Bean—named after psychopathic actress Frances Farmer, who Kurt Cobain considered some sort of hero—was seeking a restraining order against her mother, who she claims subsisted on a cocktail of drugs, sugar, and cigarettes.

Tear-jerking news for fans of Uggie the Dog from The Artist movie. Uggie will be retiring after cohosting the Oscars. He has some unknown illness that causes him to shake. Maybe it’s Pet Parkinson’s or just a good old-fashioned Hollywood nervous breakdown. Fifteen minutes of fame or several moments with Harvey Weinstein will do that to anyone—even a dog.

Anger issues may be rubbing off on Harvey’s brother-in-law Edward Chapman, who seems to have had a hilarious domestic tiff. Charges have been dropped, but allegedly during a dispute, Chapman choked his girlfriend Brooke Geahan. Chapman’s pretty sister, Marchesa designer Georgina Chapman, is married to Weinstein, a union whose existence we cannot fathom, neither in this world nor any other possible universe. The buzz on Sunset Boulevard is that she’s not into sex but likes to hang out with her girlfriends, drink champagne, and sniff a little disco dust. That’s probably a good thing since Weinstein reportedly likes hookers as much as he enjoys food and throwing things at people. Nice.

Noel Gallagher, brother to Liam Gallagher and part of the despicable duo behind the 90s band Oasis, has said the band will not be reforming. Liam is unhappy at the announcement because he misses Oasis. I couldn’t be more delighted. They were the most annoying band of the 90s. Their arrogance was boundless and despite their claims, they never were—and never will be—as big as The Beatles. If only now the bickering brothers would stop speaking to each other through the press and disappear for good. Banish them to a deserted island oasis a thousand miles from the rest of us. Let them work out their differences there.

According to the Queen Bee of London society—who told someone who told someone who told me—the grandson of History’s Biggest Psycho likes the double trouble. He and his wife are rumored to enjoy partouzes—and why not? An extra mouth is always useful. The wife, who has a tabloid-darling dad, left town on business recently. Apparently the husband and the extra mouth, a nice society girl, were getting together on their own. Behind the wife’s back. Yeah, I was sort of unfazed by the story too, but at least someone has an exciting sex life.

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